


firing away as they gay

by cosetties



Category: SKAM (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Fluff and Angst, Laser Tag, M/M, Matchmaking, Miscommunication
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-14
Updated: 2017-05-14
Packaged: 2018-10-31 16:07:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,315
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10902801
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cosetties/pseuds/cosetties
Summary: Just because Isak and Even hooked up doesn't mean that Even actually cares about him, no matter how badly the meddling assholes he calls friends want them to be together.





	firing away as they gay

**Author's Note:**

> I am right smack in the middle of finals, and I did NOT mean for this fic to happen, but here you go. A little bit of fluff, because this fandom desperately needs it right now. Title comes from [CeeCee](http://westiris.tumblr.com/) and I having too much fun with a typo. Shoutout to her for looking over this, and also trying her hardest not to enable me. It happened anyway!! Whoops!!

Isak wishes his friends could fucking _stop._ He’s not bitter, or incapable of love or anything. He’s just not ready to be in a relationship with anyone, not after the string of meaningless hookups he’d had after coming out, not when he’s so often stuck inside his own head that he can’t imagine himself being good for anyone. Especially not someone like Even Bech Næsheim, who’s somehow standing in his doorway, holding a pack of beers.

 _Somehow,_ like Isak doesn’t know perfectly well that the dumb fuckers he calls friends set this up, because they’d somehow gotten it into their heads that Isak and Even would get along. They’re not exactly _wrong,_ but Isak’s trying to scrub the memory of last weekend from his mind. It’s a little difficult though, when Isak remembers Even pushing him against the very door he’s holding open as he nudged his thigh between Isak’s legs and pressed kisses down his neck.

They’d both been too drunk to do anything that night, but Isak can’t forget the way Even’s body had curved around his like they were meant to fit together. His arms had held Isak tight before they’d nodded off, and it didn’t feel like belonging, exactly, but maybe it could.

“You’re so cute,” Even had slurred against the back of his neck, and Isak shook his head. Even had just rolled his eyes and said it again, and again, until Isak giggled at him to stop.

It was a lie. Isak could listen to Even’s voice for days, would’ve probably, if he hadn’t woken up to an empty bed and no sign that Even had been there at all.

His face burns as he remembers the shame that had slammed into him, the loneliness that weighed down on his chest. Noora had seen Even with Sonja at KB the next day, and sure, Even’s got every right to go back to his long-term girlfriend, no matter how many times they claim to break up, but Isak can’t pretend that it hadn’t hurt. Even hadn’t promised him anything, not explicitly, but the way Even kissed him with unbridled wonder had felt like a promise.

Even must’ve forgotten all about it, because he’s grinning at Isak in that easy way of his. It had seemed attractive once but just grates on Isak’s nerves now, maybe because it’s still annoyingly beautiful. Fuck, Isak has to snap out of it. Even doesn’t care about him, not even enough to tell him goodbye. Isak wishes it hadn’t meant anything to him either. It shouldn’t, not a hookup with a guy he hardly knows past his friends’ matchmaking antics.

Which is a _lot,_ actually, now that he thinks about it. He knows all about Even’s films, and his penchant for denim jackets, and his distaste for math, and how he’d shown up to a party wearing mascara once, and Isak hadn’t been able to look away from his eyes. But admitting that would mean that their matchmaking had worked, that Isak and Even had somehow found themselves running into each other more times than Isak could count--at the library, at parties, even at Jonas’s hipster poetry slams. After a month, it seemed dumb to ignore Even just to prove a point to his friends, not when being with Even felt like the most effortless thing he’s ever let himself do anyway.

Even peeks over Isak’s shoulder, and says, “Where’s Jonas? I brought his weed.”

“He’s not coming. He’s meeting us at the party though,” Isak says. He’d only gotten the text ten minutes ago, right after Mahdi and Magnus’s texts. They’re not even trying to be subtle at this point. To be honest, all semblance of subtlety had gone out the window the moment they’d introduced Isak and Even, and Magnus had pointed out that Isak has a thing for tall boys, so _of course_ they’d be perfect together, because that’s all compatibility comes down to, obviously.

“And the rest of the guys?” Even cocks an eyebrow.

“Magnus is still at a family dinner, and Mahdi’s mom is stressed,” Isak deadpans. He sighs. “Look, we can just go. It’s late enough, and I’m sure Eva needs all the help she can get to set up.”

Even holds up the beer. “And waste all of this?”

“We can just bring it to Eva’s.”

“Nah, I brought it so that we could all get wildly drunk before we have to deal with the rest of the party. Now there’s just more for us.” Even shrugs.

“I’m not going to force you to share your beer with me when no one else is even here.”

Even winks, or tries to. His shitty attempt shouldn’t be endearing, but Isak’s traitorous heart warms anyway. “You’re not forcing me to do anything.”

That’s how Isak finds himself sat awkwardly on the couch next to Even, his spine rigid. They’ve hardly said a word to each other since they’ve sat down, and Isak’s ready to ask about the fucking _weather,_ just to break the uncomfortable silence. This silence is one of Even’s making, though, and Isak can’t help but feel bitter about that, suddenly. He obviously hadn’t wanted to be here last weekend, and now that he’s slumped on Isak’s couch like a very large, very content cat, it’s doing things to Isak’s head.

“This is fun,” Even says. “Best pregame I’ve ever been to.”

“You can leave,” Isak says. He probably should just tell Even to go, preserve whatever’s left of his dignity.

Even beams at him. “And miss out on the chance to hang out with you? I would never.”

“We’re literally sitting here on my couch, not talking to each other.”

“That was never an issue before,” Even says, and fuck _,_ it’s all too easy to remember afternoons like this, when Even would come over with a bag of weed cupcakes--made with locally-sourced ingredients, because all his dealers are hipsters, obviously. Isak would tell him that the boys were out, but Even would stay anyway, and they’d get high over Even’s eclectic music taste and then stuff their faces with cereal. He’d stayed, and he kept coming back, and that’s what baffles Isak the most.

“I’m sorry,” Isak says, because that’s all he can say. I’m sorry for having feelings for you, for making it awkward when we’ve been friends just fine? I’m sorry I still want to kiss you, even though you’ve made it clear as day that you’ll never feel the same?

Even sighs and grabs his jacket from the arm of the couch. As he shrugs it on, Isak hears himself say, “You’re leaving?” Fuck his voice for sounding so small.

Even grabs Isak’s jacket from the rack and throws it to him. “We’re leaving.”

“To Eva’s?”

Even laughs, and it somehow breaks through the haze in Isak’s head, the purest sound in the universe. “Of course not, we’ve got time to waste. We’re talking a detour.”

Isak tilts his head. “But why?”

“You’re the person I want to waste time with.”

* * *

 

“I haven’t been here since since Jonas’s 14th birthday party. He ate so much pizza that he threw up, Jesus Christ,” Isak says, as he surveys the inside of Megazone. It’s as he remembers. Kids running around with their families. A group of high schoolers on what is clearly the worst double date they’ve experienced. Jonas had dragged him here on one of those when he was fourteen, and he’d ended up faking food poisoning when Jonas had started making out with the girl he liked, and Isak was left talking to her friend about a biology assignment on sexual reproduction. Isak had blushed every time he said the word “penis,” and honestly, he should’ve known then.

He can’t quite recall how Even had talked him into coming here. All he knows is that they’d been walking to the tram stop one second and had ended up here the next, Isak struggling to keep up with Even’s long strides the whole way. Even’s enthusiasm is contagious. Isak tries to stay annoyed, but it’s hard, so hard with Even grabbing his wrist to lead him to the laser tag area.

There’s no point in being surprised anymore. Isak would follow Even to the ends of the Earth.

“What a waste of perfectly good pizza,” Even says.

Isak shrugs. “More pizza for me, though.”

“I’m glad you benefited from Jonas’s pain.”

“Hey, I just took advantage of dire circumstances. I even brought him a napkin,” Isak protests.

“A single napkin?”

“They were running out, and it was his own fault. I wasn’t going to make the extra effort to ask for more.”

“You’re such a great friend.”

“I do try my best.” He’s smiling at Even before he remembers that he’s not supposed to be having fun. Even notices anyway, and he beams at Isak so hard that he has to force himself to look away. The way Even’s face glows when he’s happy is branded into his memory, though, and Isak will never witness a more beautiful sight.

“You’re allowed to not hate me, you know?” Even says, not unkindly. “We _are_ friends.”

“Yeah,” Isak says softly. “Friends.”

Even proves how great of a friend he is when he tugs the vest over Isak’s shoulders and buckles it across his chest. Isak’s heart won’t stop racing at his vicinity, and he’s acutely aware of every single one of Even’s breaths. He’s teetering on the edge of combusting, but Even just keeps on doing his thing, casual, like Isak isn’t two seconds away from dying.

After Even slips his own vest on, the guy behind the counter asks them, “Do you two want to be on the same team?”

“Yeah, we’re together.” Even nudges Isak’s shoulder with his own, and yeah, there’s death again, right on the horizon.

The guy shrugs, flipping the switch that turns the game on. Isak lets out a groan when he sees his character’s name. “I had to get the most boring Avenger?”

Even glances down at Isak’s phaser and laughs. “What do you have against Captain America? Let me guess, you’re an Iron Man fan?”

“What’s wrong with that?” Isak asks, defensive.

Even pokes the tip of Isak’s nose. “Nothing. You’re just kinda a cliche, that’s all.”

Isak rubs his nose. “I am _not--”_

“I always had a thing for Steve Rogers. Maybe I just like blondes.” Even shrugs carelessly, but Isak is rooted to the spot. Because what the hell is he supposed to do with that? Even has no idea what he does to Isak.

Even pushes through the unlocked doors as soon as the instructions are read, and Isak has no choice but to power-walk after him. Even crams him into the first nook they find, trapping Isak against the wall. Even’s heat is _everywhere._ It’s been a while since his last drink, but Isak is a fucking lightweight, and he’s not sober enough to handle this. “Okay, let’s take a minute to strategize,” Even pants.

Isak rolls his eyes. “You do realize we’re the oldest people here?”

Just then, a twelve-year-old who’s wearing a birthday boy hat jumps out of nowhere and hits Even with a blast. He cackles as he scurries away, and Even shoves himself closer to Isak. “Don’t underestimate kids. They’re vicious.”

“It’s just a game.”

“Don’t do that. I saw you playing FIFA with Jonas the other week. You wouldn’t let that shit go.”

“That’s just because Jonas is a smug fucker when he wins. I can feel his dumb eyebrows judging me.” He wins all the goddamn time too, so Isak can’t escape. He won’t let Even know that though. He’s got to maintain some semblance of cool around the guy.

God, why does he even _care_ so much?

“Remember how much of a shithead you were at twelve. Do you really want to let them win?” Even whispers.

“Fuck you. I was adorable at twelve. I still slept with a teddy bear and everything.”

“When I was twelve, I accidentally kicked one of my little sister’s loose teeth out because she tried to wake me up before noon,” Even says casually.

“What the hell?” Isak tries to keep a straight face, but it’s impossible. Fuck, it’s always impossible around Even. There’s no part of Isak that can remain indifferent to him. Even definitely hears his choked-off giggles, because he leans even closer to Isak, if that’s possible. Isak doesn’t move away, can’t move away really, in the small space, but it’s not the worst thing, either.

“I’m a morning person now. I think that’s karma.”

“How did your sister ever trust you after?”

“I bribed her with a lot of ice cream.”

Isak can imagine it. He’d run into Even and his little sister Astrid once when he’d been getting pizza with the boys. She’s a second-year at Bakka now, and seeing the easy way they’d interacted almost made Isak long for a family like that--a family _at all,_ really.

Even’s voice drops low. “So you have to fight these kids. Do it for bratty twelve-year-old Even. He’d want you to kick his ass.”

“Jesus, _fine.”_

As soon as Isak steps out of the nook, a blonde girl leaps out of her hiding place and shoots him right in the center of his chest. Even bursts out laughing, which attracts a whole group of these little shitheads.

“Ew, grownups,” the ringleader, the kid in the party hat, says. He scrunches his nose and cocks his phaser, ready to fire as soon as Isak and Even’s vests light up again.

“I’m not a _grownup,”_ Isak says automatically, before realizing that he actually kind of is. He doesn’t have much time to process his revelation before the kids are advancing on him, firing as they go. Isak reaches behind him blindly, until he grasps Even’s jacket. “I _told_ you I hate kids,” he whispers.

Party Hat must hear him, because he pouts. “I’m not a kid. I’m almost a teenager!”

Before Isak knows it, Even’s lips are at his ear. “A _tween,_ if you will.”

Isak buries his face in his hands to muffle his laughter. “If you don’t stop making me laugh, we’ll never get out of this.”

“Don’t worry, I have a plan.”

“What?”

“On the count of three, we run.”

“That’s your fucking brilliant plan?” Isak says, but Even’s already counting, and they’re off in the next second. Even grips Isak’s hand tight in his as they bolt past the circle of little terrors. Isak doesn’t have enough time to apologize when he nearly knocks over Party Hat. The kid doesn’t deserve his apology anyway. Even pulls Isak up the ramp leading to the second level of the room, and then they’re both shooting away. Isak is drunk enough to trip over a slight rise in the floor, but Even catches him before he hits the ground.

“You okay?” he says.

Even’s arms are strong, and Isak feels so safe he could cry, so no. He’s definitely not okay. “Yep, totally, let’s kick some ass,” he chokes out instead.

The rest of the game passes in a blur. It’s shooting at every red light he sees, it’s Even jumping in front of him when Party Hat and his gang finds them again so Isak won’t get hit, it’s laughing so hard that Isak feels like his chest is about to explode. It’s Even’s eyes twinkling when Isak _really_ gets into it, and it’s his body pressing against Isak’s no matter what they’re doing. Shooting, hiding, finding a moment of rest before they seek their next enemy. Isak hasn’t had this much fun in a while, and he’s not sure whether that’s due to Even or the adrenaline, or whether the two are inseparable now, for Isak, but his heart thunders so loudly he swears everyone can hear.

After the game ends, as Isak reluctantly tugs off his vest, he can’t stop staring at Even. His hair is matted to his forehead in the most tantalizing way. That one curl of his is loose again, and Isak longs to smooth it back. The muscle memory is still there, the phantom feeling of Even’s hair under his as they’d made out on Isak’s bed.

He can’t, though. Even’s not his. Even doesn’t seem to have any such qualms, however, because he runs his own fingers through Isak’s messy hair. “You look good like this,” he says. His voice breaks a little.

Isak ducks his head. “You can’t say shit like that.”

“Why not?”

_Because it’ll give me ideas, because one day I’ll start thinking that you mean it. Because you’re the most gorgeous human being I’ve ever laid my eyes on, inside and out, and sometimes, when you say shit like that, I start thinking that you see me that way too._

Even draws in a slow breath. “Look, Isak, about last weekend--”

Even’s phone beeps with a text notification, and his face screws up as he reads it. “Fuck, that’s Sonja. I told her I’d be at Eva’s.”

Of course it’s her. Isak fights the urge to cry. He’s not a fucking baby, and he’s stronger than this. He just needs to keep reminding himself of that, maybe curl up in bed alone for the entire weekend until he’s ready to face the world again.

“We should go. It’s getting late.” Isak can’t meet Even’s eyes.

Even touches his hand tentatively, but Isak shakes him off. He can’t believe he’d been holding Even’s hand ten minutes ago. He can’t believe he’d let himself be that stupid.

“I think we should talk about this,” Even says.

Isak laughs mirthlessly. “What’s there to talk about?”

* * *

 

The music is loud at Eva’s, but it’s not even proper party music. She’s playing Harry Styles’s new album, which he’s sure is _someone’s_ thing, but it’s giving him a headache on top of everything else. He hasn’t said a word to Even on the entire trip here, even though he could sense Even’s desperation through the careful distance he placed between them. He doesn’t want to hear Even’s apologies--maybe if he doesn’t confirm his disinterest, it didn’t happen at all.

Isak snorts. A boy can dream.

Magnus wraps his arms around Isak’s neck almost as soon as he walks into the kitchen. “Isak, my man! My bro! You made it.” Magnus peers over his shoulder. “And you brought my other man, Even!”

Isak grimaces. He thought Even would’ve ditched him by now, would’ve fucked off to find Sonja as soon as they arrived. But he’s still standing there looking at Isak all too intently, expectation in his eyes. Isak grabs the beer can out of Magnus’s hands and takes a swig from it.

Magnus looks between the two of them. “Did it work? Did you two finally hook up?” He takes their silence as a yes _,_ because his grin stretches across his entire face. He lowers his voice conspiratorially. “Mahdi, Jonas, Isak and Even finally banged.”

Isak rubs at his eyes. “Will you shut up _?”_

Even sighs. “Guys, nothing happened. It’s not what you think it is. We were just hanging out, that’s all.”

That pisses Isak off even more. For a second there, he’d let him believe it. He’s such a fool.

Jonas groans. “We did everything right.”

“Man, even I was rooting for you two,” Mahdi says.

Magnus gasps, clutching a hand to his chest. “You mean Evak didn’t happen?”

“What the hell is Evak?” Isak demands.

But Magnus ignores him. “Hey, Even, did you know you have a really nice face? You know what would it make it nicer? If you smushed it. With Isak’s. Yep.”

Isak slams the can down, and some of the beer sloshes over. “You guys need to stop, okay? Even and I are just friends, and I know that sucks for you, but it sucks even more for me, so I need you to just give it up. _”_

There’s silence after that outburst, and Isak sneaks a look at Even out of the corner of his eye. He’s gaping at Isak, and suddenly, Isak can’t take it anymore. Isak had poured his heart out, and Even’s still standing there, doing absolutely nothing. Because he doesn’t care, that has to be it. Isak is done concocting an explanation, tricking himself into thinking that he mattered to Even.

He tries to hold himself together as he slips out of the kitchen and opens the first door he sees, which happens to be Eva’s bedroom. It’s thankfully empty, and Isak sits down on the bed gingerly. He nudges his shoes off and pulls his knees to his chest as he tries to get his breathing under control. He’ll just avoid Even for the next week, it’s fine. They can still be friends, probably. Isak will be mature about this, because he’s not sixteen anymore. He can handle rejection now, has learned it too well, if he’s being honest.

The door opens with a click, and suddenly, Even’s standing in the doorway. It takes Isak a moment to take in the full sight of him. “What are you doing here?” he says warily.

“We need to talk.”

“I don’t think we do.”

“Please?” Even sounds so broken that Isak’s breath hitches. “I owe you an explanation.”

The idea that anyone owes Isak anything, that _Even_ owes Isak anything, is such a novelty that Isak wordlessly scoots over on the bed to make space for him.

“So,” Isak says, when Even is situated.

“So,” Even repeats. “I guess you didn’t get my note.”

Isak furrows his brows. “Note?”

“The note I left under your pillow that morning, before I left?”

“I didn’t find anything,” Isak says, a little defensively. If Even had made an effort to say goodbye--fuck, this is messing with Isak’s head again.

Even rubs his temples. “Did you really think I would leave without explaining?”

“I didn’t know what to think.”

Even’s touch is soft on Isak’s chin, as he trails his thumb against his cheek. His breath ghosts over Isak’s face, and Isak can’t resist melting into his touch. “Leaving you that morning was the hardest thing I’ve ever done, Isak.”

“Then why did you?”

Even sighs loudly, and plays with the hem of his jacket. “You really don’t remember what happened that night?”

He’s still averting his gaze, and Isak wants to pull it back, wants to ask him what’s wrong. At the end of the day, no matter how much Even’s hurt him, seeing Even hurt like this is even worse. “I was really drunk,” Isak admits.

Even chuckles, but there’s no humor there. “You got a text from your mom, one of her Bible quotes again, and your face just fell, like _that._ I couldn’t keep kissing you, knowing how much mental illness has hurt you before. I panicked, okay? I left you that--that note though, trying to explain it? I don’t think I did very well, but I told you if you wanted to come after me you could.” He chuckles again. “And then you ignored me for a week.”

Isak’s world is flipping upside down, but maybe this is the way it was meant to be. “Are you fucking serious?”

Even looks unsure, but he still manages to say, “Yeah?”

Isak shoves at his chest. “You asshole! I thought you’d gotten back with Sonja.”

“Why would you think that? We’ve been over for ages.”

“You’re always breaking up and getting back together, what was I supposed to think?”

Even’s full-on cradling Isak’s face with clear intent now. His hands are so big, and _oh,_ Isak was right to feel safe here, with this boy. “I kissed _you._ I chose _you._ There’s no way I could leave you for her, not after I finally got to kiss you.”

“There’s no way you should’ve left me, period _.”_ Isak grabs Even’s hand a little desperately, and he squeezes so hard it hurts a little. “I’ve known you were bipolar from the first day we met, and I’m still fucking here.”

“But I could hurt you.”

Isak lets out a frustrated sigh. “Even, _anyone_ could hurt me. The difference is that you’ve made me happier than I’ve been in ages, so there’s no amount of hurt that could make me stop wanting you.”

Even’s growing smile is a beautiful thing. Isak wishes he could bottle it up and cradle it close to his chest forever, for the nights when he feels the loneliest.

But maybe he doesn’t need that. He’s got the real deal right here anyway.

“I make you happy?” Even says, sounding incredibly young.

“I let you convince me to play laser tag against a bunch of preteens, so if that didn’t make it pretty damn obvious, I’m going to keep reminding you, again and again.” Isak kisses him softly, carefully. It lights a fire in his chest, and he’s a little glad he can’t remember much from last weekend, because this feels like their first kiss all over again. He hopes the feeling never fades. “Again.” Another kiss. “And again.”

When Even pulls away, his eyes are shining. “Laser tag should always be fun. You’re never too old to be young.”

Isak laughs, and lays his head on Even’s chest. “That doesn’t even make sense.”

“Yeah, it does. You just have no imagination.”

Isak looks up at him, and can’t resist planting another kiss on the corner of his mouth. He feels Even smile under his lips. “I totally have an imagination. I could imagine this, couldn’t I? Even when I kept insisting we were just friends, or whatever.”

Even pulls him closer, until Isak’s sitting in his lap. He makes sure that Isak is staring right into his eyes when he says, “I don’t think my imagination could’ve prepared me for the real thing.”

“Yeah? Me neither.”  


**Author's Note:**

> talk to me about skam at [bechnaesun](http://bechnaesun.tumblr.com/) on tumblr!


End file.
